Remnants: Dead echo
by Litestryke
Summary: Since the beginning, man has always survived the evils of soulless monsters by the power of the soul and nature's wrath. But now, with a war long fought in the shadows starting to come to light, the peace and safety that the kingdoms of man have thus enjoyed are soon to be lost. And only one person stands between them and the end of man itself. A divine lineage of a fallen empire.


**Hey there fellas! This is litestryke! I'm pretty sure you're all wondering what the heck I'm doing right now, not updating on my fic for so long and instead posting the start of a promisingly better thought-out fic this time around, right? Well it's cause 'Just Justice' is officially dead due to a variety of reasons that would take far too long to list.**

 **So, instead, I shall work on this new fic, 'Remnants: Dead echo', a not exactly Nico-centric crossover of PJO-HOO and rwby. Where PJO-HOO comes into all this will be revealed much later on in this fic.**

 **Be warned, there will certainly be quite a few obviously au-ish elements in the components of both franchises for the sake of story which will be revealed through AN's and the story itself.**

 **There may also be a bit of bashing, unintended oocness, poor description of objects, locations, physical appearance and getup of various characters, etc.**

 **Disclaimer: RWBY and PJO are not mine, they're rooster tooth's and Rick Riordan's respectively.**

 **So, without adieu, let us begin!**

 **Chapter 1**

The deserts of Vacuo were truly one of the harshest places to be in. With the Sun beating down on everything between it and the sands in day, with frigid winds rushing across the dunes with a coldness to mock the Atlesian climate at night.

Add in the sparse population of the frightening creatures of the night that have been sighted within this desert having seemingly little problem with this kind of environment and climate, and the respect and appreciation of people for the native population of this kingdom can only grow more.

The people of Vacuo were often considered as the most barbaric savage and most technologically primitive amongst all the kingdoms of Remnant, mostly due it's unforgiving nature forcing them to adapt. The scarcity of food, water, dust and other precious resources, poor infrastructure etc. gave way to all sorts of crime waves that reared their ugly visages across the kingdom, shady deals taking place around every corner.

Despite Mistral having the largest underground network, Vacuo's was comparitively more... _effective_ one could say. For the right price, any number of services of the illegal and unethical kind could be carried out with no questions asked. Mafia feuds and gang wars quite common, especially in the capital city of the kingdom.

It was kind of why the cloaked figure of a dark cloaked figure could be seen walking down the streets with a slight frantic rush in it's gait, practically speed-walking through an empty road lined by rundown buildings on both sides with estimatedly one out of three streetlamps providing any source of light, thus enshrouding the street in near darkness under the night sky. The person was completely enshrouded by the darkness of the cloak, the shadow of the hood somehow covering the entire face, the sleeves covering uptill the wrists, hands covered with black gloves and the whole frame covered by the buttoned up cloak itself.

The figure took a sharp left to walk into a dark blind alley, at the end of which was a single overhead lamp light revealing a door with a sign saying 'Bobby & co.' with an image of a thick muscular arm grabbing a glass of full of brown liquid frothed at the top on the green painted door.

As soon as the figure pushed the door opened, the typical scene of a fall fledged bar was revealed, complete with a countertop with stools, various tables and chairs spread around, light music playing through the air to provide a lighter atmosphere-

-SMASH!

And atleast one glass full of some alcoholic beverage sailed through the air and smashed right into some bald person's face, before being accompanied by a punch to the nose.

Baldy flew out of his chair and lay on the ground, unmoving and his nose bleeding. This had rendered

the attention of everyone in the establishment, causing silence to rain supreme, with only two or three people looking in the direction of the door where cloaked figure was at.

The person responsible for downing Baldy was a man clearly in his early 50's or late 40's. He had bronze skin, brown eyes, a receding hairline and a thick comb like mustache. Sporting a brown sweater with a white undershirt and red tie and military cargo pants, the man was more smartly dressed than anyone else in the whole bar.

He was breathing quite heavily due to current events. And on seeing that all eyes were on him now, he immediately righted himself from his looming position before taking sight of the cloaked figure. As he made his towards him, the darkly garbed person turned to walk out of the door again, with with him following. Soon he caught up with him as soon as they made out of the door.

"So, what'd he do now?" asked the dark figure, finally speaking for the first time. It was most certainly a young male's male.

"Started shit-taking about ma lil' girls again, callin' em whores and murderers and whatnot" answered the middle aged man in a tired voice.

"They're not complete monsters now atleast"

"I know, I know, I just-"

"I can understand your plight George" said cloak, making George turn to look at him with bewildered eyes. "My own father and mother are no better. They were monsters, while still believing they were the _good guys"_ cloak said, his voice now having an unmistakable tune of sympathy while saying the last 2 words with some venom.

" Trust me, I know" said cloak, now looking down

George stood there for about 10 seconds before taking out a cream colored envelope out of his back pocket. With yet another tired sigh and slow movement.

"I, uh couldn't get exactly all the folders you asked for. Turned out there was an alphabet system rather than a timeline system of arrangement for them all. So I had to search a little harder and my window of oppurtunity was now greatly shorter" said George as he gave the envelope to cloak, who promptly tore off the tape keeping it closed and taking out the multiple pictures that were inside it. He also noticed George had just gotten rid of that pesky drawl of his.

The pictures were all showing various different scenes of people in white bone masks with red eyes, armed with all kinds of firearms while also moving moving various crates around. A few pictures showed an orange haired man with his right eye hidden behind his bangs, wearing a black bowler hat(was that a real feather?), a small grey scarf, a white crisp suit, long black pants, buckled black gloves and an odd cane in his right hand.

"The folder stated these were taken just around a month ago somewhere in north Mistral" stated George as cloak sifted through the pictures.

After looking through all the pictures, he put them all back in the envelope. "This confirms it" said cloak, as he looked at George "They've already moved ahead of our estimated timeline".

George was now looking expressionless. "So what do we do now?" he asked in an 'all-business' tone.

"You'll do nothing. You've already done enough for me general" said Cloak, cutting George off before he could open his mouth to ask why not.

"Haven't been called that in nearly 50 years" said George, his voice having dropped slightly to near whisper level.

"You never did retire technically. And while we have lost far too much and are now divided thanks to all the damn geopolitics and war, we are still one people" firmly said cloak, as if trying to remind George of this important fact.

George could only smile, but with an undertone of melancholy responding "We all knew you were more deserving of the power even though you refused-"

"I was still a young boy who couldn't grasp the full weight of the responsibility that came with it and what was at stake. It will always be my fault that war broke out" said Cloak solemnly.

They stood there, a moment of silence passing between them as they reminisced the earlier times, when things were so much more simpler, when they were the leaders of the greatest superpower Remnant had ever seen.

When they were gods among men and men among gods.

"So" began George, releasing a breath of defeat due to not coming up with any viable excuse to further help his friend(for he was sharp with his mind and tongue as he was with his hands and feet) "what'll you do now?" he asked out of curiosity.

"What do you think? I'm gonna stop them, then make them pray I never knew of them and then make them scream and flay themselves for all their evils" he state bluntly.

"I was asking what's your next move" George stated with an unimpressed look.

Cloak now released a sigh of his own defeat. "We don't what their intentions are _exactly_ " he admitted before continuing "but we do now a lot about their plans, their operations, some of their higher tiers' capabilities and whatnot." he stated

"More than enough to have an element of surprise but still nowhere near half of their whole plan to be bold enough to derail everything we know about them" stated George

"Precisely" said Cloak, who was now looking up to the starry sky. "We are in way over our heads here" cloak said after a while.

"I told you the exact same thing nearly seven years ago" quipped George

"That sounds like a different form of 'I told you so'" barked back cloak

"No it didn't"

"Yes it did"

"No it didn't"

"Yes it did"

"No it didn't"

"Yes it did"

"Yes it didn't"

"No it di-YOU ASS!" screamed cloak, making George break out a loud laugh.

"Uh! I take back every single compliment I ever gave you, you old coot!" shouted cloak, who was clearly now agitated

"Bah! Kids these days, no respect for us wise elderly!" exclaimed George good naturedly

"What bull!"

"That supposed to be racist slang against bull related faunus?"

"You're not even a faunus" said cloak in a blank tone

"No, but Adam Taurus is" said George

"How does Taurus-?"

"But seriously, what now?" asked George now returning to his serious tone.

Cloak, once again, looked up to the night sky.

"Thief's latest location was Vale right?" asked cloak

"Yes" answered George

"Guess I have a flight to catch then" said Cloak as he turned

Hmm, must now buy tick- "Nate!"

Cloak or 'Nate' turned back. "Yeah?"

George looked a little unsure of himself now. "You remember my girls right?" he asked hesitantly.

"How can I not?"asked Nate sarcastically

Ouch, seemed he still didn't forgiven him for his part in that little 'episode' of theirs. "Well, apparantly they're now working for this underground 'information broker' guy based in Vale who goes by the name 'Junior'. He runs a club of the same name and apparently is one of the best you'll ever find. Also serves as a pretty good place for shady deals he makes. I've actually met the man himself. Despite the job and his sheer ruthlessness he's pretty morally...light grey you could say. And apparently, the kids-"

"Pretty sure they're teenagers by now and normally teens don't take nicely to being called 'kids'...especially by their own parents" quipped Nate

"Well my _daughters_ have been hired by him to act as his enforcers and bodyguards fulltime and apparently they're enjoying the job" George said before continuing "and since you're already going to Vale I thought you could visit them at your earliest convenience and just find out how they're doing then tell me over a scrollcall" George said.

He was trying hard. Really hard. To the point that Nate could practically feel it before clearly hearing and seeing it in his voice and face respectively.

Damn. Guess he'll alter the detour he had in mind. "I'll see them as soon as I can and tell you as soon as possible ok?" he replied

George let out a breath and finally relaxed before thanking Nate profusely.

"Don't worry yourself much. You're already far past your prime. I can tell your worry for them while being so far away, unable to know a single thing is eating away at you but you should try to relax a bit. Plus they're the malachites _and_ your daughters. Have a little more faith in them." replied Nate, before turning away to now search with another destination in mind. Particularly, a place for another fake ID for a trip to Vale.

 **Two days later...**

"Hmmm..." drawled out the voice of the familiar dark cloaked figure, now walking down the dimly lit sidewalk of an ill-reputed area in downtown Vale.

After getting a hold of some street punks and forcing the answers out of them(yet again he asked politely for some directions to Junior's and was instead met with the intentions of mugging and assault. Why did he even try diplomacy as the first option? Oh yeah, mom and dad and a lot of other knowledgable people suggested so!) Nate headed for Junior's. The club, not his personal home address.

The loud blaring noise of disco music getting louder and louder was evident of his actions bearing fruit. Seeing the building with the name "JUNIOR'S" in bright neon yellow signs above the door further cemented his assumption.

On seeing the bouncer, a guy with shaggy hair, the beginnings of a tattoo on his neck continuing down unseen under his clothes, Nate did...nothing except walk further.

He was just about to enter before the bouncer put forward his arm to block him. "Hold it right there! Show me some id or I'll turn ya around upside down!" exclaimed the bouncer in a false macho-style voice. Who did the guy think he was? And who did he think he was fooling anyway?

Not wanting to waste more time than necessary, he decided to skip diplomacy this time like oh-so-many other (they were countable on one hand in only his mind but no one who knew him well would ever say that out loud within his hearing range) before moving his hands forward with inhuman speed, just punching his balls, before uppercutting and then punching his neck.

The bouncer then slumped, now unconscious, allowing Nate to finally enter without any more hassle.

And now be greeted by the scene of a typical dance floor. Hmm, pretty spacious white fluoroscent dance floor, stage lights casting beams all around, a pretty wide bar nearby being managed by some people...

Damn it! Don't get distracted! Now where-there! By the bar's side

Two girls dressed in some fancy clothing sharply contrasting each other yet having the exact same face and eye color. He could only remember who was who because of their hair styles.

Melanie preferred long hair while Miltia preferred short hair. Simple as that. The differences of their overall respective attire was just as different.

Melanie was wearing a white strapless dress with cyan lining and various accessories including her white flower hairpin above her left ear, white feather scarf, a silver pad with white and red feathers on her left shoulder, white gloves with a small bracer on her left one, silver chained belt, cyan...feathers sticking out of her rear, knee high white stockings and finally her primary weapon of choice; white boots with wickedly sharp looking razor blades.

Miltia's ensmble completely contrasted with Melanie's in every way. She was wearing a dark red strapless dress with black lining and had also had different accessories like the red and white feathers above her left ear, black fur hanging off her shoulders and held in the front by a chain, black bow tied around her waist, red knee high stockings, red high stilleto heeled boots, and her main weapon of choice being red gloves with with long sharp claws attached to them.

If someone were to meet them for the first time without any prior knowledge about them, they would've though that the two seemed to even differ with their personalities, with Melanie speaking like a haughty and arrogant (bitch!) girl while Miltia would bow her head slightly and speak in a quiet voice acting all shy and stuff.

Couldn't be farther from the truth.

Damned psychos were very, very smart and could coordinate with each other pretty well to take down an enemy or two with perfect precision like a well oiled machine. They were fast, agile, a little lacking in strength and would have drastically lower chances of winning and surviving if they got separated.

The malachite twins were a truly deadly force to fair with, as he'd learned years ago after facing them off.

Poor George almost got a heart attack when he saw the state of...well everything.

His fault for being blinded by his overly protective father instincts for his little girls, though.

It seemed as he approached them, they were keeping their eyes on him, Melanie's legs a little wider apart and Miltia's palms now facing him. Clearly a sign of getting prepped up for something not pretty.

"You two can relax a little. I'm here to only find out how you're doing and then pass on a message to your daddy George." he said to them once he was within hearing range, though he had to raise his voice a little to be heard over the DJ's music.

"Nate?" asked both girls at the same time, in the exact same...everything...both raising their left eyebrow in the exact same way...

By Oum's blood, identical twins always creeped him out with their ability to do everything the _exact same way_! Yet the malachites, despite some obvious differences between their respective getups could still do somethings the exact same way in a manner that seriously creeped him out a bit. Just a bit. But still, a bit.

Least now they didn't seem like they would try to cut him out on sight now after that whole debacle with their old man.

-JUSTALINEJUSTALINEJUSTALINE-

So after managing to hold a normal chat with them for about 10 minutes after clearing up their little history, talking like like old friends would (and not a all like people who tried to kill each other for some now admittedly stupid reasons) and finally deciding that they were doing fine, were being paid decently and were working for a mostly decent guy, he just decided to share some drinks with.

But as they were heading towards the bar, a sudden commotion from the dance floor grabbed their attention. What Nate saw was the last thing he expected.

What looked to be some blonde chick of their own age group dressed in clothing obviously meant to catch a second look from someone on the street bearing golden arm bracers was zipping and jumping around punching the living daylights out of every single henchman who worked here with minimal effort and maximal enjoyment, finishing off by beating the tar out of 'DJ paws' (as Melanie called him).

"Melanie, who is this girl?" asked Miltia

"I don't know Miltia, but I think we need to teach her a lesson" replied Melanie. But before either of them could move forward, Nate raised his arms to block them.

When faced by their complaints, Nate simply popped his knuckles before answering "Let me at her girls. I have no doubt that you can teach her a good lesson. But I have quite tension inside built up thanks to the past few hours. I really want to loose on a blonde bimbo who thinks she can go around being some party hoe and brain some people she doesn't like the look of simply 'cause she thinks she's got 'superpowers'" said Nate, the word 'superpowers' with disgust.

The twins only looked at each other for a moment, then to Nate, then back to each other, beofre shrugging and walking towards the bar. _'Probably to just sit back, relax and enjoy the show'_ dryly thought Nate

Blondie from what what he could see was now wearing a slight frown, having heard his words. Good, just like he intended.

The more cross she is, the _slightly_ less coordinated she'd be in her moves.

As he approached her though once she jumped down from the DJ spot, something about her just felt a bit...off with his very person, as if there was something familiar about her and it was unpleasant to him. As soon as he saw her red glowing eyes though (while also noting the fact that her wild mane like hair was now on fire) he started to feel a little... _pissed._ And this rage felt practically instinctual for him.

"You're really gonna pay for calling me that" said blondie, clenching her fists with an audible sound of popping knuckles and her teeth now revealed to pressed together.

"What, 'bimbo'? Sorry, but considering the fact that you're a blond and you're dressed like a harlot, I can't help but say what came to my mi-" Backflip!

The fuck was wrong with him?! He normally didn't focus so much on bantering with an opponent to the point that he'd miss the smaller details that could warn him of an incoming threat. That unnatural rage seemed to be making him a little more like this bim-there he went again! Monologuing internally! Effing explosive shells were launching from every punch move she made with her gauntlets like 'fricking grenade launchers! Thank god she couldn't fire at the rate of an actual grenade launcher, cause even his own acrobatic skills were admittedly, not good enough to dodge every round it would spit at this distance.

It seemed blondie was getting tired of missing him again and again and so was now proceeding to replace her current bandoleer of explosive rounds with another type from her pouches.

Not on his watch.

He quickly dug his hands into his coat to take out his twin completely obsidian black custom made beretta pistols, firing at her, forcing her aura to take all the damage from the first few dozen before she could block them via gauntlets like Wonder woman .

 _'Seems she has some actually good reflexes as well'_ thought Nate with an ounce of begrudging respect for her. ' _Maybe I should just play along'_ he though, a smirk coming onto his face, though no one could see it under the unnatural darkness under his cloak.

It seemed that perfect balance and coordination was in her forte because during their little dance of 'He-shot-She-Blocked' she managed to actually bring out her explosive rounds and put the other type in while still blocking a few bullet, barely dodging some and full-on taking quite a few other shots only blocked by her aura.

The fact that she wasn't exactly getting a single break from his continual fire, mostly due to the fact that he made sure that he was only firing with one gun at a time so that he could alternatively reload when it ran empty while firing with the other full one (he had his cloak's interior have multiple cuffs to hold more cartridges so that just slamming with his pistols down on them could immediately reload the empty chambers) only marginally increased his admiration.

' _Something's wrong. Her hair and eyes are getting brighter. Some sort of charging semblance?'_ wondered Nate as her hair was now noticeably more brighter than earlier. And her eyes were now glowing a bright red.

He was just about to reload his left when she suddenly flewvertically up using the recoil of the buckshots of her gauntlets, before redirecting herself the same way (again with the recoil!) and charging at him with a pulled back fist.

Narrowly dodging by spinning left, he had to play evasive now to dodge every single punch she threw. He'd seen earlier what her punches did to the goons. While he may be not your average street thug, he certainly didn't want to be at the receiving end of a punch accompanied by a buckshot thank you very much.

So, he put extra effort into avoiding any blow from her, even her rare kicks, while he observed her hair now burning brighter and brighter until it was an inferno and her eyes were more red than a grimm's. Her moves, while getting faster were becoming a little predictable. What was typical of a fighter, specially an aura user who actually let their aura and more often their flashy semblance to most of the work and actually didn't have much in the way of true skill.

" _Whatever her semblance is, it seems to be getting stronger with time. Certainly not something she could be mentally causing-atleast consciously-cause she's far too unfocused for that thanks to her unchecked emotions...maybe it's her very mental state of being? Specifically her emotions?"_ was what Nate thought up while still evading.

Having enough of this little game, Nate dropped his guns and decided to do the ultimate taboo, the female equivalent of kickin' the nuts, a special technique ironically taught by his mom(it made sense though, considering she was a dirty fighter...so...).

He faked a jab towards her boobs which were frantically blocked by both her arms before kicking with all his might right into her nether regions.

Two exactly same feminine gasps came somewhere from his left which he ignored, putting all his attention on the frozen form of Blondie, who was stuck in the pose of rearing her right arm back, a face of blank shock and her hair still a curtain of inferno, her eyes a demonic red.

"No more kid gloves now bimbo"whispered Nico under his breath before reaching into his cloak again and pulling out out a completely black knife which he stabbed with blinding speed into the blonde's shoulder, the blade sinking into her flesh like knives through hot butter, bypassing her aura like it was nothing. This elicited a cry of pain from Blondie, before she was silenced by dual well placed smacks to her ears, disorienting her, before sweeping her feet from below her with a low spin kick.

As soon as she landed on her back with a painful thud, he took out a small grey gas canister. Ripping the nozzle off, he tossed it by her side as thick grey smoke was released from it as it fell and landed, making the blonde cough and choke as she accidentally breathed it in before just closing her eyes and now snoring louder than the loudest roars of an ursa.

That weird raging part of his mind seemed to get ebbed a little, before now demanding to just slit her throat and end her life. Making an unseen frown and shaking his head to clear up a little, he made his way back to the bar, behind which the malachites were sitting with surprise etched on their faces.

"Well, guess I didn't need to step in after all" rang out a voice from somewhere behind him. Turning around, he saw a broad shouldered man carrying some sort of red bazooka on his shoulder walking laxly towards him, the bazooka aimed sidewards for the sake of appearing non threatening, Oddly enough, his wide frame and his beard reminded him of a bear for some reason.

"And you are?" asked Nate

"I believe I should be asking _you_ the same question" said the man neutrally

"Nate; Junior. Junior; Nate" chimed in the malachites together...like a dual echo.

" _You're_ Junior?" asked Nate, a little pertubed by how a guy so physically large and so old went by the name Junior.

"And _you_ are the kid that the twins over there mentioned about being an unreasonable ass" shot back Junior, clearly a little ticked by how he was probably the newest in a long line of people who found it hard to call a guy with his frame Junior.

"We had a pretty...complicated history between us which we cleared just today after meeting after a long time" said Nate evenly, for the sake of clearing things up.

"Well...I guess I should thank you for taking care of that bitch, without causing as much damage to this fine establishment, unlike the rest of YOU IMBECILES!" said Junior, his voice elevating to shouting with the last words so his thugs could hear him loud and clear.

"And you two! Why didn't you join in? You could've atleast sped things up!" yelled Junior at the twins, who were looking a little irate at his barb.

"I actually asked them to step back. I wanted to take her on myself to unwind just a little bit." replied Nate, which drew a moment of surprise from the twins before they went back to their normal state of haughtiness mixed with some disinterest on their faces.

Junior was pretty good at hiding his own surprise though, for his own face didn't change much. "Well, unless you wanna stay any longer, the way out's that way" he gestured with his hand, pointing at the entrance to the club. "Or" he continued "You could get some free drinks as a thanks for taking care of this problem" he finished.

Thinking silently for a while, Nate ultimately just walked out of the club without another word before calling out a thanks for the offer over his shoulder. As he walked out though, he saw the bouncer he earlier knocked out still slumped down against the wall snoring almost as loud as blondie inside and with a trail of drool dripping off his chin.

Rolling his eyes under his head which no one could see, he soon walked down a different street, now wandering what to do.

 _'I swear, I don't understand how my own mind works. Sometimes I can think two steps ahead of what to do and sometimes I just charge in blind'_ thought Nate as he walked with no set destination in mind. ' _I could've just done the opposite and let them take her down a peg and I could've just toasted to myself while no one was looking and enjoy the show. But nooooo, just had to let...no. No. That rage...it was already there before I'd gotten truly aware. It possibly subtly gave me the 'nudge' to challenge her, fueling my dislike for her to the point of unneeded anger.'_ Reasoned Nate, thinking back to how his mind seemed to be a little unfocused during that entire fight with her. _'What's so special about her anyways that my biology would react so instinctually towards her mere presence? Should've probably checked for some personal items and ID's on her while I was still there...could've given me atleast_ some _clue'_ sullenly thought Nate, before feeling a vibration in his cloak.

On seeing he had quite a few messages from a certain someone on his scroll, Nate raised an unseen eyebrow at how they'd all been sent mere seconds apart.

' _Must be some sort of time constraint on her side or they must be very urgent'_ he mused, before opening the first and earliest of the bunch.

The information in them was certainly something that was...not boding well for anyone really, the whole of Vale especially.

' _I sometimes have to marvel her attention to detail. It's scarily good. Like shit, each of these messages are almost essay-length'_ he thought with a hint of amusement and annoyance, once he finished browsing through the last one, containing various names, adresses, locations, dates, materials, goods, etc.

'Got your messages. Finished my little detour btw' he sent. Hopefully that would sate her most certainly worrying mind.

The response, now in words of the common language's alphabets, but the letters making strange words that one would guess right to be that of some foreign language, but of a language that would give linguists, historians, soldiers and hunters both juvenile and veteran some pause and shock, brought a grin on his face, for only he knew the special meaning of those words.

' _You're an insufferable blasphemous dickwad'_

Common courtesy to reply evenly, in the same language using English alphabets ' _And you're the mother of all heathen hoes'_

 _'Dumbass'_

 _'Bitch'_

A pause, and then ' _Sleep well, my Hades'_

He'd never admitted, nor actually noticed, that everytime she called him by her name, his thumb would slowly brush over the entire screenface of the scroll for an indeterminate amount of time after sending this special message of his when she only only used her special one like now.

' _Sleep well, my Persephone'_

He stared at the last two messages for while, lamenting at the admittedly tactically sound but heart-wrenching decision of sending her so far away behind enemy lines, right into the hands of ruthless monsters. It sounded so sappy of him (and he actually didn't like sappy exactly) but he missed her _so much it hurt_. He missed seeing her, he missed her angelic sassy voice, her slippery butterfingers, her touch...god being so far away from her just- _'NO! Keep a calm and logical approach about this! You know her! She can herself just fine! She's badass and beautiful that way! Worrying about her constantly is only good in small amounts, but too much could botch things up! I have to be clear for her sake!'_ he took a deep breath to calm himself for a moment ' _I have to believe in her. It's if I don't when she entrusts so much in me...'_

On raising his eyes so see up into the night sky, he spotted a very large, tall medieval castle-like structure that rose above everything in the whole city so that anyone could see it from the very edges of this human settlement.

Recognising it as the part of one of the best training schools for huntsmen and huntresses worldwide, Nate soon took decisive steps, a new destination in mind.

"Beacon Aca **demy...** " he growled slowly, now his voice sounding suddenly like that of an angry beast's while two hellishly red concentric orbs glowed brightly from beneath his cloak, visible from across it's unnatural darkness and adding to the menacing waves of aura he gave off, truly made him seem like a demon from every angle.

" **Here I come!** "

With that proclamation in a demonic voice, he seemingly sunk into the ground, right into his very own shadow, first his feet, then his legs, torso, and finally his head, before the shadow itself shrunk out of existence.

 **End Chapter 1**

 **Soooo...I understand that my ability as an author has not improved at all actually, seeing as how I'm still unable to write fight scenes, monologue and dialogue at all, my physical descriptions of people, objects and places are pretty shitty and I'm still really unsure of whether I'll manage to get into any college or not.**

 **'Nate' is Bisexual by the way...just throwing that out...**

 **Please drop some reviews people! I need them! Good, bad, whatever else, just drop some man! Constructive criticism is appreciated very much because I think only that can I truly improve.**

 **That's all for Today! Until next time true believers!**


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